Roz Kaveney (rozk) wrote,
Roz Kaveney
rozk

After an election

And so we start again. Our friends will die
And many others whom we'll never meet
Selfharm intoxication will seem sweet
Sweeter than going on. Each time we'll cry.

And never stop. Nor take an easy road
Accomodation tiny increment
Will take you places that we never meant
Our soul flake slowly and our heart corrode

And never hope to win. It's not a game
It is a dance. Reach out and clutch a hand.
Harmony music though there is no band.
Move stately forward. It may be the same

Whether we live, are killed. Unflinching eyes
Each one that falls another hundred rise.

Live on to spite them. In the tatters dance
That they have stripped you to. Sing out the doom
That they have summoned. In this world no room
For all their wrongnesses. Come fate and lance
The boil of their delusion. Stinking pus
Will pour like torrent. But for now it swells
Condemning us to fifty different hells.
They are the problem but they think it's us.
Strawhead and sore prick nose and button eyes
Bully and scarecrow, fox ghost evil clown.
Will tear politeness kindness up and down.
High seat abominable. No surprise
Lord misrule of dead world they raised this night.
We will survive if only out of spite.
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